324 
FROM BITTER ROOT VALLEY TO FORT HALL. 
live inches long. The greater portion of this clay’s journey lay over a succession of prairie fields 
of the valley, at times passing through small groves and forests of pine. We crossed, during this 
day, two small streams coming in from the west, and a small creek from the east. At the head 
of the first one is a large and beautiful lake. The lake is about three miles long and a mile and 
a quarter broad, its outlet being the small stream emplying into the Bitter Root river from the 
west. This stream is about twenty-five feet wide, rocky bed, and an exceedingly rapid current. 
It flows, until it reaches near the base of the mountains, through a beautiful prairie bottom. This 
lake is at the foot of the mountain on the left. We were attended on this day by “ Thom’s” camp 
and several Nez Perces Indians, who were on their way to the mountains for certain caches there 
hid. This day has been mild, though cloudy and hazy, the thermometer at noon standing at 47°. 
We made during this day but eighteen miles, intending that this and to-morrow’s journey should 
be short day marches; at the end of which we should have a high snow-mountain to cross, in 
addition to a journey of about thirty miles. 
In the evening, about 7 p. m., we were visited by a gentle shower of rain, the wind blowing 
moderately at the time from the S.S.W. The night was mild, the thermometer being at 40° at 
9 p. m. 
December 3, 1853.—Commences pleasant; slightly cloudy ; the thermometer at sunrise being 
33°. The rain of last night has rendered everything very wet this morning, though the atmo- 
spheie is clear and pure. We started on our journey at 8 a. m., still continuing up the valley of 
the Bitter Root river, which we recrossed six times during the day, the valley diminishing to 
about one mile in width, till near the headwaters of the stream it diminishes to about five 
hundred yards. We found the upper portion of this valley wooded with the pine solely, growing 
to a height of one hundred feet, and many of them being three feet in diameter, and perfectly 
straight. The river forked just above our camp of last night, one trail tending along the north 
or east fork. (The southern or western fork was followed by Mr. Tinkham to Fort Wallah- 
Wallah.) The river we found rapid, and making many bends, for a distance of about twenty 
miles, when our course tending more to the east, we left the main stream, following along the bed 
of a small head-branch now dry, which led over a mountain about 1,000 feet high, called “Ross’s 
Hole” mountain. On the summit of this mountain we found snow about two inches deep. Mr. 
Adams followed the river up along its many windings, passing through the canon of the mount- 
tains, and meeting us in the prairie known as “Ross’s Hole” prairie. Our ascent up this mountain 
was somewhat rugged and steep, but affording a sufficient passage for pack-animals. The 
road for wagons passes to the left of this. Our descent was nearly as steep as our ascent, 
though over a much better road, our trail in ascending the mountain being covered during nearly 
the whole of the distance with sharp and broken fragments of granite-rock, making the travelling 
bad for the feet of our animals. We met, while crossing this mountain, a portion of the Nez 
Perces camp passing to the valley of the Bitter Root river. They had with them many animals, 
and most of them loaded with heavy bales of dried meat and furs. The first we met were old 
men and women, who seemed, with innumerable children, to form the vanguard. I must say 
that I have never seen a more miserable-looking set of creatures. Some were blind, some 
decrepit, some who had seen four-score and ten, and some five-score years. Those who were 
dried up and withered, and good for nothing else, formed the top pack of an animal already 
loaded with two bales of dried meat. Thus we met them in the dividing ridge, and the exulta¬ 
tion of meeting in such a place with the whites was loud and frequent, and from every small 
band we met would be heard the word “ tucktons, tucktons”—friends, friends. They were anxious 
to know where we were from and where we were going. Having fully satisfied them, each 
took his own road. 
After crossing Ross’s Hole mountain, our road lay across the southern portion of a beautiful 
prairie, known in this section as Ross’s Hole prairie, or simply Ross’s Hole. This prairie is 
about four miles broad and fourteen miles long. The wagon road from Fort Hall leads up this 
